Heaven and Earth
by schaefy
Summary: Ranger has finally messed up and Steph is on the point of rejecting him. Possible continuation - maybe - at the moment oneshot songfic to Justin Timberlake's "All over Again Another Song ". Thanks and please read and review! Schaefy. Mild Language.
1. Chapter 1

_You've been alone_

_You've been afraid_

_I've been a fool in so many ways_

_But I would change my life_

_If you thought you might try to love me_

Ranger looked at me through the darkness, his eyes imploring forgiveness. My heart twisted for his predicament, my face softening slightly inadvertently. Then my eyes narrowed again, my arms crossing over my chest as I sat on my bed, leaning against the wall behind it. Not after what he'd done. Not after he had pushed me away for so long. I just couldn't do it anymore. I just couldn't.

"Please Steph. I've… made so many mistakes. If I could go back and change every single one… but I can't. All I can say is that I'm sorry for what I did. I know that's not nearly enough for what happened but you have to believe me, please. I regret… everything. The times I left you alone in the world, the times I showed you that I loved you but never said it, the times I left questions but no answers.

He was pacing now, incessantly from one end of the room to the other; constantly running his hands through his long hair and throwing anxious but sincere glances at me. He looked so lost, so abandoned, so out of his depth that my pity overrode my hurt. I leaned forward in my bed and placed a gentle hand on his forearm as he paced. At the moment I touched him he went rigid, I could see his back and arm muscles tensing under his shirt. He took a careful breath, shuddering slightly with the effort of keeping all his emotions inside.

But most of all… I'm sorry for your pain. For the fact that I caused so much for you. It's not fair to you. Also that it took me so long to realise."

He turned around to face me, holding the hand I had placed on his forearm in both of his. Dark brown eyes looked soberly down at me, regret etched deep into them.

_So please give me another chance_

_To write you another song_

_And take back all those thing I've done_

_Cause I'll give you my heart_

_If you would let me start all over again_

Those dark intense eyes burned into me, seemingly unable to look away from whatever they saw in mine. Searching.

"Steph. You have to understand this is difficult for me to say, everything I've ever done in life contradicts what I'm doing."

My voice was quiet and husky as I answered.

"Which is."

He looked at me again, his eyes full of a strange emotion full of fire and suppressed anger. He stared at me for a long moment, then answered.

"Telling you about me. My history. Why I am the way I am. I feel I owe you an explanation. It really starts I suppose when I was fifteen. When I was fifteen… well, I was an asshole. A Cuban asshole and trust me that makes all the difference. I had been pushed around by other kids for too long, so I learned to fight dirty. I ran away from home and became a street kid, living on the edge. A couple of months latera was really messed up – I could only eat what I stole or found in dumpsters that had already been picked clean, I had developed a heavy addiction to cocaine and alcohol and had nowhere safe to stay at night. What little money I had went to drugs and booze so I had no hope of getting out of my hole. I was sleeping next to a dumpster one night when I saw guys a little older than me in a group, heading for a convenience store a few doors down. I followed in the hope I could steal whatever they bought. Instead, I saw them hold up the store with and Uzi. When they had taken the money and a few other things I met up with them a few suburbs away. They were part of a gang – Cuban mostly. That night I joined up with the promise I would get decent drugs and protection. If I did some jobs for them.

"Over the next couple of years I travelled all over America with them, fighting gang wars, stealing, occasionally assaulting. Those years hold my darkest deeds, things which are painful even to remember let alone tell you. I'm not proud of anything I did then, I consider myself a different person now and I don't dwell on what I did. The jobs I did for the gang got me cocaine and a place to stay. My addiction grew until I needed a hit two to three times per day. I was nineteen when I was ordered back to Trenton to do a job. I had to go to the Cuban sector of town to "punish" a girl whose father had angered the gang leaders. When I arrived in town I was driving down a street near her house when I daw my mother and father for the first time in nearly five years. My mother was older, my father more hunched as they walked down the street. I nearly crashed the car when my frail mother tried to walk into her favourite butcher. The owner pushed her back onto the pavement and screamed at her that she could not shop there because she had reared that devil child, Carlos, who committed crimes no one could imagine. Obviously news of my illegal ventures had reached Trenton. And my poor innocent mother was being punished for them. I couldn't bear the thought of that – so instead of driving to the girl's house I checked myself into rehab. I kicked the addiction in about two months, and got myself cleaned up. Then I went to my parents to ask them to take me back. Once they saw I had stopped the gang association they let me straight back in as if nothing had happened. It took me a while to get them to trust me completely again, understandably, but when they did… it was like being… reborn. Cleansed of the acts I had committed. We never spoke of what I had done; we just trusted that I would never do such things again.

"For people who were not associated with my family or me it was harder to accept my change. I felt the need to earn their respect and pride again so when I was twenty one I joined the army. I met Tank, Lester and Bobby there and we became a Ranger's Unit. We were honourably discharged five years later and we came back to Trenton and I set up Rangeman.

"We've been here for nearly three years now, two of which I've known you."

His eyes had lit up with a sort of soft warmth as he spoke the last words, staring into memories I could not see. Then his eyes focused on me again, a serious expression in his eyes.

"Steph there are things in my past that might hurt you, or cause you to lose trust in me. I don't blame you at all for this. I just wasn't you to remember that no matter what happened in my past I am still the same person you knew for these two years. I didn't tell you, among other reasons, because I didn't want you to get hurt. And… and because I didn't want to lose you. I… I need you. You have to realise how hard this is for me. I've never done anything like this in my life. But I need to say this though – to you, not to some shrink from the army. It's important to me… you know they've been trying to get me to do this for three years now. To open up to someone. But lately I've felt… that, I don't know, I _need_ to tell you. I'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear this… It's ok if you're uncomfortable or don't want to see me, it's quite understandable."

His face fell until it was darker than the shadows of the moonless night outside. He looked sadly at me, his dark eyes saying a silent goodbye; like near black currents of thoughts ebbing and surging with the tide. Then he turned to the door, walking swiftly towards it; head bent, eyes averted.

"No." I whispered.

I could not let this happen.


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm not a saint_

_I'm just a man_

_Who let heaven and earth_

_From the palm of his hand_

_But I threw it away_

_So now I stand here today asking forgiveness_

I barely caught his arm as he walked through the front door, eyes cast down. As I turned him to face me he took one longing, pain filled look into my eyes, then broke it, rubbing his face.

"No Steph, don't…"

My hand found is rough cheek and gently stroked it. Suddenly his breathing became ragged and erratic and he pushed me against the wall, hands planted either side of me, mouth next to my ear. I could hear his breath trembling as he fought to contain his emotions.

"Don't … tempt me Steph."

He forced the words, each strained and tight, cords of muscle bulging on his arms and neck.

Again of its own accord my hand found his face, running gently over his neck, his hair his cheek… he shuddered as my fingertips traced his soft lips, massaging away the tension. Then his whole body let go and he relaxed, putting his arms around me and hugging me close as if it were the first and last time I would ever see him. He needed me so badly the shock ran through my heart a million miles an hour.

"You're too good, too perfect for me. Too beautiful. You don't want me, I wasted all this time because I didn't know what to do. For my own comfort I caused you pain you didn't need to suffer. I just… I seem to need you like I need no one else. I need you. Everything about you. So please just … just forgive me for what I did. Or let me be so I can try to pull myself back together. Because what you do to me… it's like you build me up and then shatter me into a million pieces."

His breath was coming in short, shuddering gasps, his voice cracked on every word softly playing across my ear.

_Little you're all I've got_

_Don't you leave me standing here once again_

_Cause I'll give you my life_

_If you would let me try to love you_

"Ranger-" his body tensed next to mine as he heard me speak, his hand gently stroking my hair.

I hesitated.

"Steph…"

"It's ok. I understand."

His whole body seemed to sigh into mine and his head sank onto my shoulder, breathing in the soft scent of my hair.

Then he kissed me.

THE END

0 0 0

What did you think? I'm not sure, could have a good sequel perhaps. Next story will start tomorrow – called "I Can't Say Stop". Also angsty but that's nothing new… Please read and review and tell me what you think!

Schaefy


End file.
